JAZZ REVIEW : ROB MULLINS AT THE ALLEY CAT

It seems that Rob Mullins, an incessantly grinning keyboardist from Colorado, is more interested in the technology of music than the music itself. Armed with five keyboards, a mile or two of cable, a stack of computer discs and a host of other electronic gadgetry, the lanky Mullins programmed an overly long first set Tuesday night at the Alley Cat Bistro in Culver City. Better he would have played it.

There were several indications that Mullins has considerable talent and skill. His swinging rendition of “Over the Rainbow” and a boppish reading of Horace Silver’s “Moanin’,” though both cluttered with too many notes, stand as the set’s best pieces. A third standard, Jobim’s “Wave,” was performed at such a breakneck tempo as to suggest rapid ripples rather than the more desirable bossa flow.

The rest of Mullins’ set was composed of tunes of his own making. Lacking greatly in melodic content, each tune was a technological showcase of electronic effects that had no musical effect.

“Making Love” was a rigidly mechanized ballad, replete with a rhythm track, whose effect was as antithetical to the song’s title as all the gadgetry is to jazz. Spontaneity is traded away when computer discs dictate form and content.

A couple of Mullins tunes, “Bush Patrol” and “Larry’s Tune,” for instance, were brashy rock pieces that gave drummer Greg Field and bassist Marty Ruddy some much-needed room to play.

Mullins’ intended tour de force was “Daybreak,” a solo outing that pitted the keyboardist against his arsenal. A ponderous ballad with no discernible melody, the piece allowed Mullins to create a thousand trite effects. A daybreak like that is enough to make one want to stay in bed.